Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of the a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

Now, some days find Christapoet writers just freestyling without prompt or occasion. I called the poems from such occasions “spurts” a long time ago, and so it has been. On this day, another March day, the topic had been given the day before which had been a Friday. But there had been silence…until Ini Brown wrote at 7:42am on Saturday:

for a life to count, it must know it’s worth
so what are you worth?
is it what you own
your abilities, the very skills you hone
is it you personality, that subtle drive or extraordinary flair.
the way you could make sunken hearts feel lighter than air.
is it your personality you hold above
or the fact that your account has more figures than your body curve.
i believe that the worth of a thing is how much it is willing to be paid for
and that Christ gave his life when mine was what to be paid for.
I guess all I’m saying is, know your worth.

Now, Saturdays are kinda busy and a lot of times, there is no time to check what has been happening. I came online the next day, at 2:47 pm, I wrote:

So arranged it’s lyrical teeth,
Byte me tell me which app pulled this
Off like the fruit of knowing which
Is good or evil
Me I’m simple
Trained to battle
Biro mantle
And everybody can return and that is the force of folly if not fully first planned.

Now Fink!

Wazzdat

Yesterday I checked my spotify stats
Numbers made me love this exodus that
Started with a song I sang on red night
Life is no exam but complainers read light

Rice and stew is Sunday food, once I lacked and wished I could go back to the days of ten marks but my life has moved.
Who are you, they asked me too; when I tried to tell em “shoo”. Who it fits should wear the shoe but the truth is someone paid for you.

Shooo?

Rest is left to write this
Someone had to hear this
If the first evangelists were like me would I write this?
Those red lines they blew me
Burnt up my apathy

I stopped a while to see if anyone would write something but this was not that kinda day. So at 3:58 PM on the same day, I wrote again:

Teach us to number our days
I counted on the wrong things
Gone they soon were North wind
Angel told me to send applications
But I only got those they sent me
Smiles on the babies I babied
Sweat off the mothers I helped out
In Christ I am Superman
That’s that super mega upgrade
Warn a bros with the gospel
That’s me being legendary
DC made holy charges
But salvation’s still free
We’re dying from our birthday next day might be death day let’s say it’s a party God’s will is that all fed welfare based on Christ being in here not the atmosphere
Preaching is my service though I won the game
Net study plenty, you should do the same
I am God’s finger and my lips paint
Christ crucified and buried and raised
A life that counts is measured by those who gained
But God better be counting or what else is vain?
And that was it. Or so I thought. It appears that there are some days when my people look at the spurts and poems and decide to join in.

A few days, on the 11th at 3:13 PM, Hanna Azubuike wrote. Now, ordinarily, I would count it as a addressing a different topic or matter, but I will let you be the judge of that. She titled the piece “Wrong Address”

Death came knocking at our door
We said it was the wrong address
We said those hoodlums from hell lost their map again
He inquired about our payment
We gave him Christ’s blood
He did an inspection round our fence for a broken edge
He found a carved bronze snake in it’s place
Death was furious
It’s the second time he’s here for this same body
But he always came on April fool’s day,
We told him we could not help him
No matter how he tries to come early,
Abba always has his April’s trick on him
No matter how, the description seems familiar
Wrong was our address

Nice right? Do you think it spoke on “a life that counts?

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:

Niel Quchi

Hanna Azubuike

In Brown